A/N: First of all, a massive apology for waiting this long. Life as always got in the way. Final year of uni and dissertation work is really taking its toll. Life has been chaotic: my laptop's not fixed and I have to wait till Christmas for a new one, I'm doing a ton of voluntary work experience with kids, I went on about a dozen marches during my country's recent independence referendum and it's suspected that my aunt's throat cancer has returned after eight years so … yeah. Chaos.

Hope you enjoy anyway, if you can remember what happened in the last ten chapters! :)

The Road to the Isle of the Blessed

"I feel like an absolute plonker," said Ron, looking down at his rough-spun tunic and ragged trousers with disgust. "And I smell like a cave troll."

"About the same as usual then?"

"Shut up, Ginny," scowled Ron.

"We need to blend in, Ron," said Hermione, examining her own plain dress. "I find it quite fascinating seeing how people lived back then, well, back now, I suppose …"

"Of course you would," said Ron, grumbling, and sitting down on a nearby wall. "I prefer the twentieth century. At least people then had baths."

"You're being very severe on us, Ron," said Merlin, striding into view wearing his own set of itchy peasant's garb. Harry couldn't help but notice that, unlike the rest of them who were pulling at their new clothes in distaste, Merlin actually looked comfortable, natural even. "It's not that bad.

They'd walked the three wearisome miles, Ron's moans loud in their ears, and come across a tiny village of ramshackle buildings and haphazard animal enclosures and ploughed fields. The inhabitants had stared at them from the shadows of their doorways, and some children had even come out and laughed at their strange appearance. Merlin however was unfazed, and told them all to wait on the outskirts whilst he went to a local merchant to purchase some clothes for them, as well as supplies to get them to the Isle of the Blessed, which he estimated to be a couple days journey away. After delivering the supplies, he had vanished back into the village.

Ron rolled his eyes. "You're used to it, mate," he said. "No offence, but I'm not sure I like this century. The place stinks."

It certainly did, with the multitude of animal smells and other unsavoury aromas meeting their nostrils. It was overwhelming to say the least.

Merlin just smiled and took a deep breath. "Really? It reminds me of home." He looked out across the village. "This place isn't too dissimilar from where I grew up."

"You grew up in a place like this?" Malfoy asked, and his distaste was obvious.

"Better not let the locals hear you saying anything against their village," said Merlin, who'd bent down to check their supplies.

"Why not? They can't understand me."

"Yes, they can," said Merlin, standing up again. "I cast a spell. It was complicated to say the least; I've never tried anything like it before. I've always learned languages the old-fashioned way. It's not really possible to learn a language by a spell. But I'm not technically teaching you the language, just translating it for you in your minds from my own knowledge. It wouldn't work if I couldn't speak both languages."

"You sure you're speaking English?" Ron asked, confused. "You're telling me we're all speaking Old English right now?"

"No, you're speaking in modern English, but other people will hear your words in their own language, and you'll hear theirs in yours."

"Enough, before my head explodes," said Ginny. "As long as we can talk to them, I don't care how you did it."

Merlin nodded. "I've also cast a spell to alter my and all of your appearances to everybody apart from us seven. Kilgharrah said you'd all be alright with your own names, but it's not a good idea to keep mine, even in this century Merlin was an unusual name. If we're in company, call me by a different name.

"Why?" said Harry. "You're not going to run into yourself, Kilgharrah said."

"Perhaps not," said Merlin. "But I've no idea what year it is; Kilgharrah might have sent us fifty years before my birth, or just five. I might not run into myself, but there could be people about who I will know in the future, and I think it best that I remain obscure. Don't want to mess with history."

"I thought that was exactly what we were trying to do," said Malfoy, but Merlin ignored him.

"Well, are we going then?" asked Ginny, and Merlin shook his head.

"Just a minute."

"Why?" asked Harry, but then saw why as the next minute a man and a boy came around the corner escorting several horses with them. Ginny immediately grinned, though most of the others looked hesitant, Harry included.

The man approached Merlin.

"Seven you said?" he began, and Harry detected the subtle hint of an accent in that voice, no doubt a result of the spell Merlin had cast translating the Old English.

"Yes," said Merlin, speaking with the same accent, and began to look the horses over. "Not exactly the greatest stock."

The man seemed to bristle. "Well, what do you expect? We're a small village, we don't have much need in the way of horses, save for the farm beasts, and we can't spare those. No call for war-horses or the like here! This is my entire supply, take it or leave it. And I'll be expecting a right tidy sum for them. Saddles and everything else count as extra."

"Of course," said Merlin, and reached into a small pouch at his waist and withdrew several gold galleons, enchanted to remove the normal markings on them to make them just plain gold. "Will this be enough?"

The man's eyes gleamed as he beheld the coins. "Thank you kindly." He shoved the coins into a pouch of his own, and only then, did he hesitate. He looked at Merlin curiously.

"That is a large sum indeed, boy," he said suspiciously. "How did you come by it?"

"An inheritance," Merlin said, avoiding the man's gaze as he ran his hand over the horse closest to him.

"There are many bandits on the road these days."

"Yes, there are," said Merlin, turning to face him. "I'll thank you for the warning."

"How do I know you aren't one of them?"

Merlin raised an eyebrow. "Have you ever seen a bandit without a sword?" he asked, holding out his arms. "Or one who travels with women? Believe me, if I was a bandit, you'd know about it."

The man just backed off, his hands held out before him. "All right then," he said. "No need for that. A man has to be careful you know. I'll just let you get about your business."

"Thank you," said Merlin, and the man withdrew hurriedly, casting one curious glance back at them.

"Bandits?" Hermione immediately asked, biting her lip. "Are there lots of those?"

"Yes," said Merlin. "But don't worry, I know how to deal with them. If we come across any, don't use your magic; I know how to get rid of them without them realising we're using magic. I've done it a hundred times before with Arthur."

"Are we, uh, likely to run into any?" Malfoy asked, but Merlin didn't answer him.

"Oh, they're beautiful," said Ginny, gushing over a chestnut horse standing close to her.

"Of course, your Patronus is a horse," said Merlin, smiling. "Have you ever ridden one before?"

Ginny shook her head. "We were never able to afford one," she said wistfully.

"I suppose you know how to ride," said Ron, looking at Malfoy.

Malfoy laughed. "You're kidding, Weasley. The Malfoy family, riding horses? We'd never stoop so low as to use Muggle transportation."

"Oh yeah, I forgot, you'd be riding unicorns, wouldn't you," Ron said under his voice. Malfoy didn't appear to have heard him.

"Do we have to ride?" Hermione asked, looking nervous.

"Oh, don't worry, it's easy," said Luna.

They turned to see Luna already seated on a horse, nimbly sitting side-saddle, supplies already tied to the saddle, and casually adjusting her dress, with one hand lightly held on the reins.

"Just like riding a Thestral," she said, smiling.

Merlin laughed. "Apart from the wings, of course. Come on, it's not that hard. We'll take it slowly."

Harry tried not to feel nervous as one large black horse was brought over to him. He'd ridden a Thestral before, plus a Centaur and a Hippogriff. He'd even ridden a dragon! Those were magical animals though, a voice in his head told him. They're not the same thing. They were doing the steering.

Somehow though, miraculously, with Merlin's help, he was suddenly hoisted onto the back of the horse, and sat there awkwardly holding the reins.

"Now what?" he asked, as the horse pawed the ground.

Merlin just laughed again. "Just follow Luna's example," he said, nodding towards the figure in the distance, cantering around the village outskirts. "She's a natural," he added, an admiring glint in his eye.

Before long, all six of the amateurs were mounted and Merlin led them all away from the village on foot by holding their reins until they were on the road, where he led them around a little, getting them accustomed to riding, instructing them on how to hold the reins and guide the horse. After a while, Harry felt himself settling into it, if still a little nervous. It didn't help that both Luna and Ginny seemed to be taking to it like ducks to water. It also didn't help that he'd spent more of Merlin's demonstration looking at Ginny's happy grin as she trotted around with ease than looking where he was supposed to.

Hermione picked it up after a while, but Malfoy and Ron were both hopeless. Malfoy had fallen off first, followed promptly by Ron, though this was with laughter more than ineptitude. Both succeeded to fall off several times more, drove their horses backwards, caused them to rear, and slipped off the saddle. Merlin groaned.

"How are we ever going to convince people you're from this century?" he asked in despair.

"Are you telling me everyone in this century knew how to ride a horse?" Ron asked grumpily, picking himself up for the fiftieth time.

"No, but they could all at least look at a horse without being terrified."

"We're not terrified!" Ron objected, but Malfoy frowned, and turned back to his horse with a doubtful look.

"Scared the horse will attack you like Buckbeak did?" Harry asked, noticing Malfoy's hesitance. He immediately turned round, face red.

"I am not!" he said. "I- I just don't like animals much."

"It won't harm you," said Merlin, guiding Malfoy back to the horse. "Unlike Hippogriffs, horses don't have talons, and they're not that fussed about bowing either. Don't let it sense your fear. If it does, it's more likely to throw you off. Here, just stroke it for a while, let it get used to you. There's no need to be nervous."

So Malfoy did as he asked, though still a bit jumpy whenever the horse turned its head towards him. Gradually though, he calmed down a little, and was able to climb into the saddle and ride a few metres on his own without issue. As was Ron.

"I don't think I'll ever get used to this," said Ron, sitting rigidly in the saddle, as the horse stooped to munch on some grass by the side of the road. "I much prefer brooms."

Privately, Harry agreed.

"We'll go slowly at first, ease you into it," said Merlin. He grabbed hold of his own horse, and in less than a second had swung himself up into the saddle in one fluid motion without any problems at all. "We'll need to pick up the pace a bit in a few hours though. We want to get as far as we can before darkness sets in."

And with a slight nudge of his heels, he'd spurred his horse forwards, and set off down the dirt track, bobbing up and down in his saddle with ease.

Harry and the others followed him with a much less polished grace, hooves sounding loud on the stony path. At first, it wasn't so bad, following the sight of Merlin's back in front of them, the sun shining through the trees, and a pleasant breeze blowing in his face. But after a while, the novelty wore off. He was jostled about in the saddle in a very uncomfortable manner, and he began to fidget and wish for an end to their travelling. He couldn't imagine how anybody could ride like this for days.

After several hours riding, during which they got gradually faster, and Ron and Malfoy only fell off two times each, Merlin suddenly pulled on his reins and brought them all to a stop. He swung himself out of the saddle and led his horse by the reins to the side of the road.

"We'll stop here for the night. This spot is fairly well sheltered."

"For the night?" Ginny asked. "There's still loads of light."

"And would you like to set up camp in the dark?" Merlin asked her. "Bearing in mind that's when bandits are more active? No, it's always best to set up with plenty of time."

So, with some difficulty, the rest of them dismounted (not so smoothly as Merlin) and led their horses to the spot Merlin had found, a small hollow backed by a steep ridge. A small stream flowed nearby, and Merlin instructed him to tie up the horses to a neighbouring tree to allow them to drink, and remove their saddles, which took even more time.

They came back to find Merlin had started a fire and was rooting through their packs.

"I'm knackered," said Ron, slumping down on a tree stump. "Who would've thought sitting on a horse all day would be tiring?"

"Think how the horse feels," frowned Ginny. "Poor guy's had your fat arse on his back all day."

"Shut it," said Ron. "I can't wait to get some kip." He looked around. "Don't we have a tent?"

Merlin laughed out loud. "A tent? In this day and age, Ron, only kings had tents."

Ron starred. "Then where are we supposed to sleep?"

"The ground."

"The ground?"

"Yep," said Merlin, and threw him over some blankets rolled into a heap. "You'd best get comfy."

Ron stared at the blankets in his hand and shook his head. "I definitely don't like this century."

"Don't complain, Ron," said Merlin, handing out blankets to everybody else. "It's just the way it is. You know, I'd never even slept in a proper bed of my own until I went to Camelot. It was some straw on the ground for me."

"You were really that poor?" Ginny asked.

"I suppose," said Merlin, now withdrawing a small cauldron from a pack into which he added some ingredients and some water with a flash of his eyes. "But I never thought of it as poor. It was just life."

Harry tried to imagine this as the broth cooked over the fire Merlin had built. Even the Dursleys had given Harry a bed, admittedly not a very comfortable one, or in the best location. He immediately tried to think of something else. Although technically, the Dursleys hadn't even been born yet, it still made him feel guilty.

"Urgh," said Ron, taking a taste of the broth when it had finished boiling. "Don't like that much."

"Well, it's all we've got," said Merlin, sounding a little peeved.

"You sure?"

"Peasants didn't complain as much as you do, Ron. Do you want to blend in?"

"There's nobody else around!"

"Did he whine this much when he was off searching for Horcruxes with you lot?" Ginny interrupted, looking at Harry.

Harry hid his smile. "No, he was much worse."

He dodged the twig Ron had sent flying in his direction and laughed. It was true, the broth was pretty tasteless, but Harry was glad of it. He was starving after the long ride.

"I like it," said Luna, laying aside her empty bowl. "Is there any more?"

Harry laughed at Ron's expression, and so did Merlin as he poured her another bowl.

"How long until we get to the Isle of the Blessed?" Hermione asked, when there was a lull in the conversation.

"I'd hoped to get there by tomorrow night," said Merlin. "But going by the progress we made today, I doubt we'll get there until noon the following day."

"How do you think they'll react to us showing up?" Harry asked.

Merlin looked thoughtful. "I'm not sure," he said. "I've never been there when it was still in use."

"But you'd met Druids and priests before, right?"

"Yes, but, well, they were always very … guarded. I don't know whether that's because they were more careful because of the persecution they'd endured, or because they'd always been like that. And anyway, they were always nicer to me because I was the legendary Emrys. They might not be so welcoming to the rest of you."

"Great," said Malfoy. "So they might not even let us in."

"I'll get us in," said Merlin, but he looked worried. "We haven't come for nothing. We need that spell."

Fawkes, who'd vanished that morning when they'd come across the other travelers, suddenly reappeared, and landed on Merlin's shoulder. As usual, despite everyone else jumping and spilling their dinner, Merlin didn't look surprised in the least, and just absent-mindedly raised two fingers to stroke his plumage.

He turned to look at him. "Yes, we'll get in," he murmured. "I have to have faith in the Old Religion. Even if it doesn't have faith in me anymore," he said this last part so quietly, Harry wasn't quite sure he had heard him.

He watched Merlin the rest of the evening, as the night fell and they all began to settle in for the evening, curling up on the ground trying to find as comfortable a spot as they could. He looked reserved, and worried, a constant frown on his face.

"Aren't you going to get some sleep?" Hermione asked him.

Merlin shook his head. "I told you, these woods are infested with bandits. Someone needs to be on watch. I'll do the first one. I'll wake one of you later on."

And he did. As the rest of them fell into sleep, he stood on the ridge above their camp with his back to a tree, his dark eyes staring out at the dark night, shrugging into a thick cloak.

Harry watched him for several minutes, until he heard a voice in his ear.

"Do you think he's alright?" Ginny had crawled over to him, wrapped in her own blankets. She kept her voice low. "He's trying to act normal, making jokes and that, but he's troubled."

"Of course he is," said Harry. "How do you think he feels to be back in this century? I mean, his mother might be alive somewhere, Gaius might be in Camelot right at this minute, but he can't go and see them. He's wanted to come back for centuries, and now he is, but can't do anything to change what happened. It must be torture."

"We have to help him see he's not alone in this," Ginny said, looking at Harry. "You took long enough to realise it, and now we have to do the same for him. He doesn't really believe in this plan. What if he does something stupid?"

"According to you, I'm the expert in doing stupid things," he smiled at her. "Don't worry. We'll be there for him."

"Good," said Ginny, and settled down on the ground next to him instead of returning to her previous spot. "He's going to need us."

Merlin sat there in silence for what seemed like hours. The fire burned down low in the midst of the sleeping figures, but he didn't try to build it up again with magic. He barely noticed it. The sound of the night were almost oppressive to him. Deadly silence, broken only by the distant sounds of animals moving through the trees and the calls of nocturnal birds swooping through the branches in pursuit of their prey. It was an illusion of peace he hated.

He felt restless, impatient, ready to crawl out of his skin for wanting to take action. Their slow pace today had frustrated him, and the prospect of a similar journey in the morning almost made him want to ride off on his own. He was desperate to get to the Isle of the Blessed to get this spell and take it back to the future. He was impatient for it all to be over.

He kept reminding himself that it didn't matter how long they took, the future would still be waiting for them, but it didn't help. He wanted it to be done, and he detested the delay. Perhaps he just hoped deep within himself that the quicker it took, the less painful it would be.

He was deluding himself. There was nothing he could do. Harry and the others had never ridden before, they didn't understand the ways of this century, and he had to be patient. Fawkes cawed softly at his ankle, and Merlin nodded. He couldn't go off to the Isle on his own. They had come back for a reason, all seven of them, and they were all needed. Though, why, he still didn't know. The Old Religion didn't see fit to share that with him. It didn't see fit to share anything with him these days.

So, his thoughts turned to the other heavy burden that was weighing on his mind. He sighed, and Fawkes shifted uncomfortably.

"You're not thinking about it, are you?"

Merlin jumped, to see Luna climbing the ridge before him. Fawkes fluttered off and landed on her shoulder. She smiled, and raised her hand to stroke him. "You're a beautiful bird, aren't you?" she said, even as Fawkes rubbed his head against her cheek.

Merlin just watched for a moment, momentarily speechless by this move of Fawkes'. He rarely showed affection for anybody, save Merlin, and Harry occasionally. Oddly enough, Fawkes sitting on Luna's shoulder looked so natural, Merlin couldn't help but smile.

Luna looked back at Merlin expectantly. "Well, aren't you going to answer my question?"

Merlin's smile vanished. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes, you do," said Luna, coming to sit by him, Fawkes swaying on her shoulder. "It's what you were thinking about just now."

"When did you turn into a Legilimens?"

Luna frowned. "Don't be sarcastic, it doesn't suit you." She continued staring at him, and then sighed. "Why must you be so frustrating?"

Merlin almost laughed. "You're not the first Ravenclaw to ask me that."

"And did you ever prove her wrong?" said Luna. "Rowena Ravenclaw, did you avoid her questions like you avoid mine? Did you tell her your secrets?"

"No," said Merlin, avoiding her eyes. "I didn't."

"Even though you were in love with her?"

Merlin whipped his head around to look at her. "What makes you think that?" he said, perhaps a bit too quickly.

She just raised her pale eyebrows. "It's obvious by the way you talk about her. And besides, the Grey Lady told me."

"Helena didn't know-"

"She knew full well what was going on between you and her mother," Luna said matter-of-factly, either not noticing or just not caring how uncomfortable Merlin was now. "And so did that Whitethorn man Verax mentioned. But I can tell it was more than just an affair. You really loved her, didn't you? Like you loved the Lady of the Lake."

Merlin looked at his hands, twisting in his lap. Images of Rowena flashed through his mind unbidden, and his heart ached.

"I did," he said quietly. "I did love her."

Luna smiled. "And is that the first time you ever admitted it?"

Slowly, Merlin nodded. "I never told her," he all but whispered. "And she never said it to me, either. But we both knew. We thought, foolishly perhaps, that if we just didn't say it, it would be easier when I had to leave. Of course, it wasn't, and I've spent centuries wishing I had. But I never admitted it to myself, even then. I've always avoided what caused me pain."

"And so you never told her about Camelot?"

"I never told anybody," he said. "The Old Religion wouldn't let me, but … I told her of the guilt I felt, and the grief. But I always held back. I didn't like to think of it, like how I don't often like to think of the Founders now."

"I thought you were done with running away from the past?" Luna asked.

"I don't think I ever will," said Merlin. "It's my curse. I can never look back on my past without pain. Guilt may be gone, but the grief will never vanish."

"It never does," said Luna, lightly. "I still think of my mother. And it hurts sometimes. But no matter what pain there is, I don't try to forget about her. I'm a better person for remembering her. I'd rather be upset than never think of her at all. Through the pain, she gives me strength."

Merlin turned to look at her, and she smiled again.

"They give you strength, Merlin," she said, taking hold of his hand. "The family you lost, Arthur, Gaius, the Lady of the Lake, Rowena Ravenclaw … they're always with you. They are the Old Religion, Merlin. They are love itself, and you should listen to it."

Merlin kept his eyes on her face for the longest time, quietly awed by her faith, by her simple belief in the beauty of life. The moonlight shone off her hair, giving an almost halo like impression to her head, and her eyes shone brightly.

"And that's why what you were thinking of when I came to you was a bad thing," Luna said. "It's why you're 'on watch'. You could easily have cast a spell to warn us if anyone comes close. You're sitting here because you're considering something very silly."

He shook his head, the illusion broken.

"Camelot is so close," he said, feeling the swirl of emotion come back. "It's just … there. I've wanted to come back for so long, and now it's literally just a day away. I need to go back."

"To do what?" asked Luna.

"I-," began Merlin, before sighing. "I don't know, but-"

"You won't find what you want, Merlin," said Luna, staring at him firmly. "You want to go back for the wrong reasons. You cannot change the past. Well, not this past, anyway."

"It just, frustrates me," he admitted, looking down at their still joined hands. "I know what's going to happen. The thought that I could change it-"

"But you can't-"

"There's so much pain in the years to come," said Merlin. "Camelot is destined for years of misery."

"And then years of happiness," said Luna, smiling. "The storm clouds don't last forever. Without the misery of the Purge, there won't be the happiness of the Golden Age. Things happened for a reason. You can't change that."

"I wish I could," he said.

"And that's your problem," said Luna sadly. "You're trying to do too much. You've been unhappy for so long, you can't recognise happiness when you see it."

"What happiness was there back in 1999?" he asked.

"There was your mortality," Luna said. "You should have been happy with that. You just didn't want to see the peace that was before you. You'll never find true peace, Merlin, when you're so blind to it."

"Maybe you're right," he said quietly. "I'm … I … I don't know how to be happy anymore."

"You will," said Luna, reaching over and placing one of her small hands on his shoulder. She smiled. "I know you will."

She withdrew her hand, and with one last smile, went back to her blankets and curled up to sleep once more. Fawkes stayed by her side until she fell asleep, before flying back across to Merlin, and landing on his knee, looking at him almost reproachfully.

"I know, I know," he said, stroking his soft feathers. "I'm an idiot. I should listen to her."

Fawkes squawked in agreement, and hopped over to a nearby branch, nodding at him meaningfully. Merlin took the hint, and crossed back to the others, and laid himself down on his own blankets as Fawkes kept watch.

He knew Luna was right. But convincing his heart of the same thing was a much more difficult task.

He glanced over at her sleeping form as he drifted to sleep himself.

He smiled.

"Come on, Merlin! What else have we got to do all day?" asked Ron the next day, still sitting rigidly in his saddle.

"You want to practice magic in broad daylight on a busy road?" he asked incredulously.

"Busy?" asked Draco. "We haven't seen a soul for over two hours."

"By this century's standards, Draco, this is practically the M6," said Merlin, but he knew he was right.

"Come on," said Harry, joining in. "We'll be able to tell if anyone's coming, right?"

"Yeah," said Ron. "We need to keep our magic up, like you said; people don't use wands around here, we don't want to stick out. And we'll end up needing it."

"I agree with Weasley, much as I hate to say it," said Draco. "What are you afraid of, anyway? I thought magic wasn't illegal?"

"I would have thought the two of you would be more preoccupied in learning how to stay on your horses," said Merlin, barely suppressing a grin as he remembered a few humourous incidents earlier in the day. "Magic might not be illegal, but … I'm still hesitant. We're not in Camelot. We're between kingdoms and I don't know how people around here would react."

"We'll be careful," promised Harry. "We won't be reckless or anything, even Ron."

"Oi!"

Merlin smiled as he remembered a time long ago (or was it in the future) when he had made the same sort of promises, remembering how eager he had been to study magic, even when there was danger about. He was reminded of Gaius, and how he'd always advocated caution, always tried to protect him. Had he turned into his old mentor? Since when had he been one to deny others the joys of magic for fear of being caught?

"Please, Merlin?" said Luna, riding along gracefully on her horse beside him, the only one aside from himself who seemed to be at ease on horseback.

"All right," said Merlin, and his four Old Magic students grinned. "But we're being careful, and you're not doing any of the big spells, especially as you're seated in such precarious positions."

They readily agreed, and the rest of the morning was spent drilling his students on their exercises and spells. They were still moving very slowly on their horses, but Merlin decided this would be the best way to stave off his impatience. He moved Ron onto water spells, thinking primarily that he didn't trust him to light a fire in his palm whilst on horseback with his track record. Water proved much easier for him, though still not perfect, though Merlin suspected this may be due to Draco and his sister being there to ridicule him.

"Draco," he said, moving to him. "Conjure a wind. Clear the path before us of leaves."

Draco thought for several moments, screwing up his face in concentration. "Lyft."

He held out his palm, and a small wind picked up, brushing all the leaves from the past and into a swirling torrent, which then dissipated easily.

"Good," nodded Merlin. "Your control is getting much better."

Ron sniffed in annoyance, still soaking wet from his attempts to keep an orb of water sustained above his head.

"Luna," he said, trying to think of something he hadn't yet done. "Change the colour of Ron's horse's tail."

Luna smiled. "Hweorfan bleo."

Her eyes glowed, and the next second later, Ron's hair was bright pink.

The others roared with laughter, Ginny and Draco loudest amongst them, whilst Ron tuned around in his saddle, unable to see what was funny. Fawkes, who was woken by the sudden burst of noise vanished indignantly in a spurt of flame.

"What?" Ron asked. "Merlin?"

"Sorry," said Merlin, struggling to control his own laughter. "Why don't you conjure some water to use as a mirror?"

Ron scowled, but did as he asked, conjuring a stable, if somewhat wobbly, puddle of water in the air in which he examined his reflection. His look of confusion turned to one of outrage.

"Bloody hell!" he said. "Turn it back!"

"Sorry I missed, Ron," said Luna dreamily. "But I actually think it quite suits you."

"Turn it back!"

"Harry," said Merlin, still shaking in laughter, "you turn it back."

Harry did so, still laughing, and they continued for some while, alternating spells until they were all exhausted. They stopped for a quick meal by the side of the road and set off again. By mid-afternoon, the road was becoming more bumpy and less travelled. The trees closed in on either side. Merlin was immediately alert, knowing this to be prime bandit territory,

The others seem to sense it too, and eased their loud talking and laughing. Even Luna looked more alert than usual. The daylight began to fade, making the trees seem even more sinister, danger hidden inside every shadow.

"Are we almost there?" Hermione asked, breaking the silence that had lasted for the last hour. "You said-"

"We should get there before nightfall," said Merlin, feeling a mix of apprehension and excitement. What would he do when they got there?

As the afternoon wore on and began to fade to evening, Merlin called a halt, and they rested their horses by a small stream; the Isle of the Blessed was by now perhaps only an hours ride away, and he wanted to gather his thoughts before they arrived. As the others were stretching out their sore muscles that were unaccustomed to riding, Merlin sensed the impending danger of bandits. He'd almost thought they'd managed to escape them, but the eyes that were watching them were undeniable.

Harry, who'd been rummaging through his bag, jerked his head up and looked to Merlin immediately. Despite the danger, Merlin couldn't help but be pleased at seeing how much better Harry's instincts were becoming. Harry leapt to his feet and held out his hand in readiness.

"Don't," Merlin said to him, and all the others turned to them looking confused. "Let me deal with it. Whatever happens, none of you use your magic."

A moment later, as he had predicted, there was a fierce cry from the thicket of trees next to them, and about ten burly men wielding blunt swords and axes came hurtling towards them. Merlin wasted no time. A couple of discrete spells and some conveniently loose tree branches fell on the heads of several of the bandits and knocked them senseless, another few tripped over tree roots that had risen from nowhere and lay motionless, two were hit on the back of the head by rocks and the rest tripped over the bodies of their comrades, and conveniently knocked themselves out.

The entire episode had been over in less than a minute, and Merlin almost smiled at the memory of doing so many similar things back in his youth. Discrete magic was his specialty.

"What the bloody hell-" began Ron, but was interrupted by Ginny who cried, "Merlin, watch out!"

Merlin had already turned however, sensing the man behind him, the leader, charging towards him with the rapidity of a bull. Seeing it was too late to otherwise incapacitate him, Merlin reacted instinctively. His eyes burned golden, and one of the swords lying abandoned next to the unconscious bandits flew into his hand and without thinking, he raised it in front of his path and directly into the path of his oncoming assailant.

The bandit could not stop in time, did not bring his weapon around to meet Merlin's and instead, ran straight onto the blade of the sword. He gasped, his eyes went wide, he spluttered for a moment, and collapsed, lying still on the forest floor, blood seeping from his abdomen.

Merlin watched him for a moment, and then glanced at the sword he was still holding, red with the man's blood. It had been a long time since he had killed a Muggle.

He turned to face the others, to see their faces a mixture of shock, awe, and fear. As one, their eyes moved down towards the sword.

"You killed him," said Ron, staring at the blade.

Merlin nodded. "I had only meant to incapacitate them all, preferably without them knowing of our magic. But he caught me by surprise."

Harry was watching him strangely however, and Merlin knew he was uncomfortable with it. Harry was always so wary about taking lives; Merlin doubted whether any of them standing there had ever actually killed anybody. They all tended to aim to Stun rather than kill. In a way he was glad, they were innocent in a way he was not. Merlin did not enjoy taking lives, he never had, but still he never hesitated when he deemed it was necessary. It was a part of himself he wished did not exist, yet, he owed his continued existence to it. There was no use in feeling guilty over every life he had taken, he was too far gone for that. He was still happy however that none of those in front of them knew what it was like to have taken so many lives as to have lost count, that none of them had ever cast the Killing Curse. They'd all seen him kill before, but not like this. Killing with magic and killing with a tangible weapon was different. Especially when the dead man was a Muggle.

Hermione looked troubled too. "Aren't you … " she began, gulping as she stared at the body. "Aren't you going to get into trouble for killing him?"

"From who?" asked Merlin, cleaning the blade with a flash of his eyes, seeing that the blood was still the focus of their attention.

"I don't know … is there no some sort of law enforcement or something?"

"You mean a seventh century version of the police?" he asked her, almost smiling. "No, not in this century, Hermione. These are the Dark Ages, remember? In this time, it's kill or be killed. The road is a lawless land, it is not murder to kill a bandit. It's likely no one but his cronies here will miss him when they eventually wake."

She nodded, but still looked disturbed. Merlin decided it was time to move on, wanting them all to stop staring at him. They were probably all wondering just when did taking a life become so commonplace to him, and Merlin wondered that himself. He was so different to that clumsy boy that had left Ealdor for Camelot all those years ago- all those years from now. He was back in the century of his birth and he was suddenly aware of just how much he had changed in the thirteen centuries he had lived. If Arthur met him now, would he even know him anymore?

"Come," he said, guiding his horse by the reins back to the road a short distance away, from which they had descended down the bank to allow the horses to drink from the stream. "We can perhaps make it to the Isle of the Blessed before it gets really dark."

"I thought you said it wasn't a good idea to travel on the road at night?" asked Ron, climbing into his saddle with difficulty.

"We're not far," said Merlin, and he was telling the truth. The magic inside of him was growing and bubbling inside of him, and he knew why. The Isle, at its full strength was a focal point for all magic, and he could sense its power even from this distance.

He made off down the road, the others following closely, eying the trees warily as if expecting another attack. All the while, Merlin's mind was whizzing furiously. What would they do when they got there? What would he say to the Druids? Would they even be allowed to step foot on the Isle itself? Would the Druids be friendly?

Even as he felt his magic reacting to his proximity to the island, he also sensed something else. A presence close by, a magical presence, though what it was, he had no idea. And it appeared he was not the only one who noticed it.

"Do you sense that?" Draco asked him, pulling his horse closer to Merlin's.

"Yes."

"What is it?"

"I'm not sure," said Merlin, uneasy. "I don't sense danger, but-"

"Someone's watching us," said Luna, from further back, though the way she said it, she might have been commenting on the weather.

"What?" Ron asked her sharply.

"I sensed it back at the stream," Luna continued. "Someone was there, in the trees."

"And why didn't you say anything?" demanded Ron, as everyone stopped their horses to turn and face Luna.

Luna shrugged lightly. "I knew he meant us no harm. He was curious about us, and I thought we should let him see that we mean him no harm either."

Merlin stared at her. "He? Who is this he?"

"He's right here," said Luna, her eyes glazing over for a moment. "Nearby, watching. I'm not sure where though."

"I do," said Ginny suddenly, and pointed to a spot behind Merlin.

The hairs went up on the back of Merlin's neck, and he turned his horse to find a lone figure standing on the road in front of them. Even without seeing the triple spiral tattoo on the man's shaven head, Merlin knew immediately he was a Druid; he seemed to radiate power, but power that was calm and ambivalent rather than hostile.

The man looked them all in the eye slowly and deliberately, lingering last of all on Merlin, who almost shuddered. Then, the man's eyes went to Fawkes, who was seated on the saddle before Merlin. Fawkes, sensing this, lifted his head to stare at the man, and cawed softly. The man seemed to nod.

"Who are you?" Merlin asked, finally finding his voice. The others brought their horses further forward until they all stood facing the man.

"I am Nechtan," the man said, his voice slow and deeply accented. He bowed his head slightly. "I am the Guardian of the Path to the Isle of the Blessed."

Merlin immediately looked to the path beyond the man. "We're close then?"

"Yes," said Nechtan, keeping his eyes on Merlin the entire time. "We sensed you coming, and I was sent to meet you, and to determine whether you shall proceed any further."

"Procede further?" Harry asked. "You mean, you won't let us past?"

Nechtan's eyes flicked to Harry, and something flickered in his eyes. "I did not say that, young one."

"So you'll let us past?" Ginny asked.

"I did not say that either, young maiden," Nechtan said, and he ran his eyes over all of them again, making no move to say anything further.

Merlin almost laughed at the absurdity. Druids had always been infuriatingly cryptic then? It wasn't the result of the Purge at all.

"What is your business on the Isle of the Blessed," Nechtan asked Merlin. "Who is it that desires to pass?"

"My name is … Malcolm," said Merlin, only just remembering to use a pseudonym. "These are my friends Harry, Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Draco and Luna. I must speak with the High Priests and High Priestesses of the High Council about a … delicate matter."

"Delicate matter, indeed?" Nechtan said, a shrewd look in his eye. "And what is that?"

"It is a matter best left to them," answered Merlin. The man seemed to smile.

"No one is granted an audience with the High Council without proving themselves first," said Nechtan. "Only the most worthy are admitted into their presence."

"Please," said Merlin. "Just let us onto the island. We shall explain everything in due course."

"Shall you?" Nechtan said. He tilted his head to one side. "Only those with magic are permitted onto the Isle of the Blessed."

Merlin nodded. "We are sorcerers," he said, and the man nodded.

"I know," he said. "I saw you, Malcolm, defeat a dozen bandits in a matter of moments without even lifting a finger or speaking an incantation. I can sense your power, boy."

"Then you know we are sincere-"

"Sincere?" Nechtan asked. "You are hiding your true purpose from me even at this moment. If you were sincere, you would have told me the purpose of your visit. Instead, you trust to vagueness."

"Look who's talking," said Ron, who was obviously losing patience with the man. "Will you let us pass or not? I'd like to get off this bloody horse."

Merlin winced. As much as the mysteriousness of the Druids annoyed him, he knew the direct route seldom worked well.

But the man almost seemed amused. "You act as if there is so little time," he murmured. "Yet you have all the time in the world."

At this, Merlin blinked, and his heart leapt. Did the man know the true purpose of their visit? Had he heard them talking about the future?

But the man did not seem willing to elaborate. Instead, he merely bowed his head, and stood aside.

"You are permitted to pass," he said. "But I warn you now: we seldom allow complete strangers onto our sacred ground. If it were not for my observations of your power and the phoenix that accompanies you, I should have turned you back; phoenixes never ally themselves with those who are not true of heart. Follow me, the Isle is just beyond the bend in the road. I shall lead you to the home of magic."

The man turned, and began to walk down the path, and Merlin immediately followed him, as did the others, though his heart was filled with misgivings. What would their reception be? Would they be trusted?

Fawkes tried to reassure him by rubbing against his skin, but all Merlin felt was apprehension, and something akin to fear.

A/N: Hope to get a new chapter up for next week.